“Let me introduce my friend to you,” Courtlaw said. He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. "Stow it, Nab!" exclaimed Quilt, angrily; "the kinchen's awake. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being.
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